


love me in a way i understand

by sapphfics



Series: lockdown laments [1]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Birthday, Birthday Presents, F/F, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Post-Canon, Post-Canon Fix-It, Post-Season/Series 07
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-29
Updated: 2020-03-29
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:27:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23379082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sapphfics/pseuds/sapphfics
Summary: Regina’s never liked her birthday. Emma Swan is determined to change that.
Relationships: Evil Queen | Regina Mills/Emma Swan
Series: lockdown laments [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1681501
Comments: 4
Kudos: 54





	love me in a way i understand

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jolies](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jolies/gifts).



> for lola, happy birthday !!!! <333

Regina has always hated her birthday. 

As a child, it was hardly something to be celebrated. 

“You’re just another year closer to whiter away so much that no good husband will marry you,” her mother would declare, sipping her coffee with a rueful manner known only to women in loveless marriages. “Why make a fuss?”

She only knows what day she was born because her father told her on a night whilst mother was away and he had drunk one too many goblets of wine. 

The year she turned fifteen, her father tried to bake her a cake. 

“Every year on my birthday, my mother would bake us a cake,” He’d tell her. “I hate that you never got to meet her. She would have loved you, Regina.” 

“I would’ve liked to know her,” Regina says, smiling. Her mother is out of the house or else she wouldn’t be allowed to eat sugar lest she ruin her figure. “Especially if she made cake that was this good! But I wish the house was just you and I, sometimes.” 

Her father laughs and hugs her. “I do too, Regina. But I cannot leave your mother. Marriage is a sacred bound.” 

Marriage, for her, was not nearly as sacred. Nor was it anymore pleasant, but she will dwell on the cycle of children mirroring their parents with her therapist. She’s got one of those now, Snow insisted, is paying for it out of her own pocket. It’s odd to see Snow wanting her to be anything but dead, even now. 

Regina will admit, there was a certain thrill to her birthday when she first lived in Storybrooke. Though she lied about her age, of course, she would awaken most days with a wide smirk of satisfaction of someone who knows they’ve won. Given that she was the Mayor, she would receive presents from wealthy people she kept in her back pocket and most of the townsfolk who must’ve feared her wrath if she didn’t receive one. But even winning, she will admit, became boring. 

And now, even as the newly reformed Good Queen, the people still give her gifts, sometimes with that same long held twinge of fear in their bright eyes. Everyone’s eyes seem unnaturally bright nowadays, perhaps the new world they’ve created has lifted the spirits, or maybe they pulled the sun too close. She’s not sure. 

The first thing Regina wakes up to is a call from her therapist, wishing her a happy birthday. Regina thanks her and hangs up before she can ask about childhood trauma again. She still has a phone in the United Realms, though some citizens have gone full Luddite. Regina can’t understand why people wouldn’t want indoor plumbing or electric lights or a bottle opener. She gets a few texts from Ruby, Snow and David, a facetime from Henry and Ella and Lucy. They promise to come over later but Ella’s having a difficult pregnancy, and Regina tells them not to come if Ella’s not able to. 

Regina finds it strange to be a grandmother, mostly because she looks almost the same as she did when she was a mother with a newborn. But it’s nice, too, and Lucy likes to draw her on thrones and in crowns. Regina hangs them all on her fridge. 

And then, Regina hears a knock at her door. And then she hears someone swear. She sighs. She still lives in the same mansion she did in Storybrooke, although Snow had graciously offered her a whole castle. But Regina’s never been anything but miserable in castles, so she had politely declined. 

Regina opens it to find Emma clad in her red leather jacket, looking so much like the baby-stealing annoyance whom Regina first met after twenty-eight years of victory. But this time, she’s smiling. 

“Hi!” She says, cheerfully. “Happy Birthday, Regina!” 

Emma’s got a cake in her hands she clearly made herself because it's slightly falling apart. But it looks edible, at least. 

“Oh! Thank you, Emma! What a surprise!” Regina says. “Come in, won’t you?” 

“Thanks,” Emma says. “I was gonna bring Hope, but she’s with her dad for the day, and he’s gonna get her ice cream and trust me, you do not wanna be there to see the results…” 

“I never thought Captain Guyliner would be a decent co-parent,” Regina muses. She’s kind of missed having little kids, but not quite enough to adopt again yet. “He must’ve learned from his Wish Realm doppelganger.” 

“He did, actually,” Emma says. “He and Wish Hook go to bars together. Makes it fun when they try and pick up women, they say they’re twins. Sometimes they invite me, you should come!” 

“I may take you up on that sometime. There’s not much going on in my life now that the United Realms are somehow both united and at peace,” Regina says. Emma puts the cake on the kitchen table, and Regina puts a freshly polished finger in the frosting, licks it. She doesn’t notice Emma watching her until it’s too late. 

“Apologise,” Regina says. “That was...what do you Americans say, gross. For a queen.”

Emma shrugs. “I don’t care. It was kinda hot.”

“The cake’s not poison, that’s not your style,” Regina laughs. “I shoot fire from my palms. I’m always hot, Emma.” 

“That’s not what I mean,” Emma says. Regina winks back, playful in a way she’s not been since Robin. “You’re like...hot-hot.” 

“Oh,” Regina says. Emma’s taken off her jacket, put it on the back of one of Regina’s dining chairs like she owned the place. Like she belongs here. She could. “ _Oh_.” 

“Sorry,” Emma says quickly, a delayed anxious reaction left over from a lifetime in foster homes feeling unloved and needing to be quiet unless the yelling starts again. “I shouldn’t have said anything—“ 

Emma makes to leave, but Regina’s ambitious and knows what she wants, so she pulls Emma toward her and kisses her. It’s like when Regina had pressed their foreheads together at the mines, when they still despised each other, only with far less venom. 

“It’s my birthday,” Regina reminds her when Emma pulls away. “I need a drink.” 

“I’ll get you one, and dinner, if you want.” Emma replies. She’s grinning now and has that same spark in her eyes Regina thought was extinguished long ago. “Granny’s shut years ago, but I got her and Ruby to teach me how to make your favourite. You know, just in case.” 

“Perfect,” Regina smiles, kisses her again. “Let’s stay home.” 

And that’s what this house is, Regina knows, that’s what Emma is. 

After all this time, she finally has a home.


End file.
